Repairing the Ruins
by LoveUnderLockAndKey
Summary: What is left after the verdict? An exploration of the ramifications of testimony and the healing that must come after.
1. Chapter 1

Repairing the Ruins – Chapter 1

There are no words left.

I am lost as ever as I sit in the car, barely allowing myself to register the bumps in the road. I am numb, mind, body and soul.

What have I done?

Ms. O'Brien has taken to staring out the window, silent as I. If I didn't know any better, I would think I had seen a break in her characteristically harsh countenance. I take a brief moment to steal a glimpse and do indeed see the slightest trace of a glistening line upon her cheek. I don't dare speak a word of it, as I cannot stop my own tears from flowing freely. It is not like me to yield in such a way, especially in such company, but it is not every day that I condemn a man to execution either.

In this brief moment, we exist together, a frightful pair connected in grief and shame.

I rally to compose myself as the car rumbles into town. We'll soon be up the drive, crossing the line into a world without Mr. Bates. I will be the one looked upon to recount the happenings of the day. Lord, give me the strength to deliver the news.

The car's engine stills and, as if he sensed the outcome all along, Mr. Carson, rather than the chauffeur, opens my door. I cannot look him in the eye, as it all becomes excruciatingly real. He supports me as I exit the car, and without cause for explanation, he does not leave my side, accompanying me all the way down to my sitting room.

He gently lowers me on to the settee and crosses to close the door. He does not press for anything, rather sits beside me, strong and steadfast as I've ever seen him.

The tears come. As hard as I try, I cannot stop them. By reflex, I bring my hands to my face and bend at the waist, attempting to cover such physical evidence of my disgrace. He says nothing but gently places a hand at my back. He offers me a handkerchief which I cannot bring myself to accept.

"Mrs. Hughes. I cannot begin to imagine what has occurred today, but I know that you must have only acted in a lawful fashion. Honor only lies in truth."

That may be so, but in actuality, I cannot even remember what happened in that blasted courtroom. I approached the stand, ready to firmly speak to the utmost respectable character of Mr. Bates; before I knew it, the prosecution had led me down a line of questioning which left me feeling the flames of hell upon my feet. I was confused, hurt, bewildered, and most of all disappointed. In myself.

What must Anna think of me?

My heart is shattered for my dear girl. I've never known a kinder soul, and now I've done nothing short of put the light out in her eyes. I feel a monster. A horrid, dreadful monster for taking the only love she has ever known out of her life and sending him off into the unknown.

Charles mutters something about tea and rises to leave. As he reaches the door, I manage a shaky, "Mr. Carson?"

He turns and regards me with a mixture of sympathy and questioning. I have but one request.

"Could you please fetch Ms. O'Brien? She's had quite a run of it herself today. Not one of us should be alone now."


	2. Chapter 2

Repairing the Ruins – Chapter 2

I hear the car's engine cut in the drive.

She's home.

According to her ladyship, Lady Mary had sent word ahead that she wished to tend to Anna alone, upon their return. I did my best not to register a right look of shock, but frankly I was quite surprised by the request. It is far from a common occurrence for Lady Mary to think of anyone but herself.

I begin to wonder if I am finally getting a glimpse of what Charles has held on to all these years. Well, I'll believe it when I see it.

Her ladyship and I agreed to keep everyone out of the main floors until the arrival could be settled. After my meeting with her and recounting the day's events to the staff, I began to succumb to the exhaustion of the day. Charles has an uncanny knack for reading me, and as such ordered me to rest.

I'll admit I did not go to my room straight away. In the end, I was unable to resist the magnetic pull to another door.

I entered the room carefully and quietly, being mindful not to disturb anything. I wanted my presence to be ghostly, nothing stirred; everything sacred. The door to the bureau was absentmindedly left open, a lone fingerprint left to mar the mirror. She must have reached out to touch it, perhaps in an effort to ensure reality. She always did manage to look beautiful, even in the most anxious, desperate times of late.

I turned to leave when my eye wandered to her meticulously made bed. Perhaps the order gave her stillness in the chaos. Upon the pillow lay her simple family Bible, a photo of Mr. Bates pressed onto the cover.

How will I ever face her again?

Flush with nausea, I flee the room, just managing to carefully close the door as to leave an undisturbed appearance. I felt bad enough without having Anna believe that I was out to search her room uninvited.

My bed was never so welcoming. Though I settled for a minute or so, my nerves still got the better of me, causing me to be ill.

The sound of the car stalling in the drive, indicating their arrival, brings a fresh wave of sickness.

I so want a glimpse of her, if only to know that she is alright. What an old fool I am thinking that she could be anything near alright. I chide myself for having such thoughts and wish for anything other than silence.

I have never felt more alone in dishonor but certainly know that it is nothing but well deserved.


	3. Chapter 3

Repairing the Ruins – Chapter 3

I stifle any cries as not to insult Anna. What right have I to cry when I've caused her world to crumble?

I want to go to her, to be with her, to make sure she knows that she is not alone in this world, but I cannot bring myself to face her. The clock on my mantle ticks on, its hands moving ever so slowly, painfully counting the future as present.

Ten minutes have gone by and there is still no stirring in our hall. I jump at the soft knock that unexpectedly comes down upon my door. My stomach lurches as my mind races as to who it might be.

"Mrs. Hughes?" I hear his gentle baritone venture, quiet enough not to wake me lest I be sleeping.

"Do come in, Mr. Carson." I say, just loud enough to pass through the door.

I sit on top of my quilts, still in my dress, too weak and battered to even bring myself to change into comfortable nightclothes. He regards the washbasin, and I can see the wheels in his head turning, contemplating whether or not to continue with the original reason for his visit.

"Are you quite alright?" he asks tentatively as he drags a chair over to the bed and sits gingerly.

"I honestly cannot begin to tell you how horrific it was today." I start, the stirrings of sickness returning.

Charles reaches out and takes my hand. "You can tell me, Mrs. Hughes. All in good time, and only when you are quite ready."

"I should never have listened!" I chide as I shake my head. "I can't even begin to figure out how the prosecution even knew of the conversation. It is all too unbelievable to be true. And O'Brien! I have never, and I mean never, seen that woman ever show an ounce of regret for any action in my presence, but today, well today, that woman turned pale and blank as if her soul were stolen right out of her body." I'm not quite ready to tell him the rest, but I know that I must continue if I am ever to gain any sense of sanity back in the night.

"The worst was…"

The tears are back. My cheeks are soaked as I choke out the rest of the despairing memory.

"… Anna. We weren't allowed back into the courtroom, but we needn't be there to hear it. Our dear girl's scream carried through the heavy doors and all throughout the hall." I take one last deep breath.

"It was bone chilling, Charles."

His Christian name is the only thing my broken self can manage as I allow everything that had sunk in to begin to seep out again.

He moves himself over to sit aside me on the bed, propriety placed aside in the name of support and comfort. I don't deserve it. I don't deserve him. He places an arm around my shoulder and lets me slack into him as much as I need.

"I came to tell you that Lady Mary is caring for Anna tonight. I know that you had already discussed such with her ladyship, but I thought you should know that she is keeping Anna with her tonight. Our girl will not be alone." He tightens the arm around my shoulder.

"I just thought you should know."


	4. Chapter 4

Rebuilding the Ruins – Chapter 4

Tea and sympathy admittedly began to soothe my frayed nerves and upset stomach. The sense of guilt and shame would take much longer to mend.

Charles stayed with me until I promised to dress for bed. By now, at least four hours had gone by since she arrived home. I did everything I could to try and quiet my mind as to what could be happening just a few halls away, but to no avail. Wonderings don't quiet in a fretful mother's mind.

Truth be told, Anna's always been much more than an underling, at least in my heart. I am well known to keep a serious tone throughout this house, in an effort to keep operations running smoothly, but once a mother hen, always a mother hen. I may not have been blessed with children of my own, but that never kept me from quietly fussing and fretting over my charges, even if only in the silence of my own prayers. I see so much of myself in that girl that it scares me sometimes; I can't help but youthfully wish that she were my own.

Now I've lost her.

I pick up a book and try to read, but my eyes cross with fatigue and my head starts to pound. Thankfully, the nausea has passed and I hadn't embarrassed myself further in front of Charles. That man sure puts up with a lot, even from me.

I move to extinguish the lamp when another soft knock falls upon my door. I can tell from the lightness of the rap and lack of announcement that this time it's not him.

"Who is it?" I offer to the air, too drained to rise from the bed.

"It's Mary, Mrs. Hughes. May I come in?"

Well wonders never cease.

"Certainly, M'Lady" I say as I begin to swing my legs out from under the covers.

She enters quickly and waves her hand to tell me it is unnecessary to move any further. For this I am beyond grateful.

I never thought I'd live to see the day when I would be relieved to see Lady Mary Crawley entering my bedroom at an ungodly hour of night. I have so many questions, but where to start.

Astonishingly enough, I don't have to.

The girl wears a look of fatigue I've never seen on her before. This isn't her usual, unbecoming, "I'm tired of life" malaise. This is a true, worn out, puffy eyed, white as a sheet look.

"I just wanted to tell you that Anna is sleeping. It wasn't easy. God knows she put up a fight, but she's done now, at peace, for at least the time being."

Who is this girl standing before my bed? This cannot be our Lady Mary. For a second, I swear I see Anna standing there, worn down from administering her usual unrelenting steadfast care and concern to Lady Mary herself.

I am beginning to garner a sliver of admiration for this girl. As much as I hate to be proven wrong, in this argument, Carson and Anna may have gotten the better of me yet.

"Thank you for letting me know, M'Lady" I say sincerely. Most sincerely.

"Oh, and Mrs. Hughes… she'll come round. There was nothing that you could have done differently today. In her heart, she knows that. Give her time. You'll see."

I can feel my eyes misting over, but I refuse to cry in front of Lady Mary. I cannot begin to think of what to say next. I can only say what comes to me in the immediate.

"Thank you, M'Lady. I appreciate it… all of it."

She gives a slight nod, a weak smile and leaves just as quietly as she had come.

I dared not dream that in my life, Lady Mary Josephine Crawley would give me the greatest of comfort in my longest hour of need.


	5. Chapter 5

Repairing the Ruins – Chapter 5

The car rumbles along, my fragile state registering every dip and turn. I am hollow, bottomed out on emotion.

It's not every day that you have to bid a final, fatal farewell to your husband.

I could go on about the unfairness of it all. We were barely newlyweds when they came to haul him away from me. We had done everything right, waited, wading through years of the pain of patience, only to have it all stolen out from under us as quickly as we had decided to make it reality.

I could go on about it, but useless words and ministrations do nothing now.

My newfound guardian is with me, barely having left my side since the verdict. She has kept me separated from reality, in an effort to heal this fresh, excruciating wound. It has been an unprecedented crossing of the lines, for which I am a bit embarrassed and would normally have rallied against, but pretense hasn't exactly been on my mind lately.

What remains when the world has gone black?

John's words ring through my ears. All of them. I replay each moment we have ever spent together constantly, my greatest fear the loss of any of our memories. His slanted smile, a brush of his hand, looks that never needed words… This is, was, the story of us.

My mind refuses to stop reviewing this last, absolute, visit. Over and over again, I hear every word, see every look, feel every touch. I could not endure leaving his final embrace, barely breathing as I managed the weakest of smiles. I couldn't have his last glimpse of me be one full of tears and sorrow. Lady Mary became their unfortunate recipient as I fell through the last door and into her awaiting arms.

Here we sit, riding on to the only home I've known for over ten years, yet I feel as homesick as I ever have in my entire life.

His words ceaselessly echo through my head. "You musn't blame them." I am mindful that there was nothing else to be done, though my heart screams out otherwise. The prosecution had trapped each of them so fiercely, so cunningly, so as each question served to sink my heart further and further into the bleak hopelessness I foolishly thought we would be able to put behind us. Faced with a Bible under my hand, would I not have done the same?

All fault lies in a string of unfortunate coincidences.

My anger is with reluctant truth, not those who were victims to present it.

Mrs. Crawley has been kind enough to visit with me, administering calm to my nerves and spirit. She has assured me that everyone at Downton is rallying for John and will be there for me in the interim. I know she speaks loudest for Mrs. Hughes; for that I am ashamed.

Mrs. Hughes has always had a kind, open door policy. She is firm, but fair, in her everyday dealings with us staff, but there always exists a comforting air about her. She rarely speaks to address personal matters, but when she does, it is nothing but heartfelt and compassionate. As much as I serve to be an active support to so many at Downton, she is the strong, silent one, hidden just beyond her sitting room door.

I may be a broken spirit, but that doesn't give me the right to visit that upon others.

Tonight, it all will change. I will arrive back to Downton, but it will be a whole new world. I will excuse myself from the care of Lady Mary and reenter my old existence, the one I held before the fateful day that damned man, the one that I now love with all of my existence, darkened our doorstep, bringing the light into my life. He will never leave me, but I must continue on. Lady Mary must return to her world and I must return to mine.

I must keep busy to drive everything else away.

I'm just not sure how I will ever face them all.


	6. Chapter 6

Repairing the Ruins - Chapter 6

She's gone to visit Mr. Bates today. Possibly for the last time. I know it foolish to hold on to hope, but it's all we have left. His Lordship has spoken with Charles about it, firm in his refusal to give up the fight against such injustice.

I am so very glad that he shares this with me.

We have yet to see her in our ever changed world. Lady Mary has unflinchingly taken Anna up as her cause, refusing to leave her be, save those rare moments she manages sleep. Surely Isobel has been quite the help with that. She has been down to keep me informed of any progress, knowing how much I worry.

After her first visit, she patted my hand and asked me to come with her upstairs. She gently pushed through my reservations, and before I knew it, I found myself following her to Lady Mary's bedroom, of all places. Isobel turned the knob with such care as to keep it as silent as could be; when the door opened, there my dear girl lay, sleeping like only the most peaceful of creatures could. Isobel reached out to take my arm, nodding her esteem with a smile full of sympathy.

As we descended the stairs, returning to my sitting room, she recounted her time with Anna, how they had talked about what had happened that horrible day and how alone she was left to feel in the world. She felt a bit out of sorts with the Crawley's kindness, never wanting to feel a burden. As if that sweet girl could be anything of the sort.

A part of me wonders if Lady Mary's devotion isn't a convenient distraction from her troubles with Sir Richard and Mr. Matthew, but the fact remains that she is doing a good deed, the best I've seen from her, and I won't mar that with any misgivings.

Isobel left, assuring me that all had not been lost. She would heal, we would heal, with time, but time is exactly what it would take.


	7. Chapter 7

Repairing the Ruins - Chapter 7

The atmosphere is so entirely different here, I feel as if I choke on every breath, dreading the moment I will inevitably have to look her in the eye. No words seem appropriate. There are none such that exist.

If there's one thing I cannot stand, it's an atmosphere.

Charles has just returned from searching for that poor dog. Truth be told, I love that little creature and the spark she brings to Downton. After all we've been through, why must she go missing now?

Despite the distraction, my mind is still full of the fate of Mr. Bates. Knowing Charles's obsession with image, I absentmindedly bring about talk of the papers. It is a simple attempt at conversation, a way to divert my thoughts from traveling down the darker path on which they tread most often lately. I fail as everything returns to teem with Anna.

He easily talks about the loss of honor, the inheritance of improper notoriety.

And there she stands.

Lord in Heaven.

The first glimpse of her, back in form, back to us, dressed for duty. My heart caves in as I inwardly blanche to the cursed timing of it all.

If she hadn't come to hate us yet, she most surely would now.

She bravely, yet brokenly speaks to handing in her notice. She will spare any ills that may fall upon Downton due to her presence. She has resolved to journeying out into the world. Alone. Always thinking of everyone else.

I look to Charles with pleading eyes. What more new nightmares must be visited upon us?

When he shows a bit of agreeance, my old sparring self pushes its way out to put up my own fight. I will not let her leave us. Most certainly not under these conditions. Damn any supposed consequences.

She won't relent, her mind made up. Her countenance is determined, but her eyes reflect something else entirely. She is broken, fighting, but broken. We have let her down in the most dishonorable way.

Why shouldn't she leave? She has no one here. We've shown our true colours, demolishing any relationships that have been built over the past ten years.

I watch her go, unable to speak. Charles turns to look at me. He knows that I am full of anger, bubbling under the surface of regret. I turn away from him to face the wall. He reluctantly leaves, closing the door behind him.

I wait for the click of the lock before falling apart in the silence.


	8. Chapter 8

Repairing the Ruins – Chapter 8

If I had any doubts as to whether I should stay on at Downton, they have all been resolved now. Mr. Carson was right, the talk would be of nothing but disgrace. How could I visit that upon this house and family who have worked so tirelessly to champion us? I must repay their kind concern and care by quietly leaving them all behind.

It is what John would have done. It is what he had done.

I think back to the first time he left me. No explanations, no hope left out in the dark. I knew he was doing something gallant, and told him as much, but he refused to explain himself. It was only later, that I came to understand. Mrs. Hughes, torn between letting me heal quietly in the unknown and soothing me herself with the truth of the matter, relented and told me of what she had overheard that dreadful day that Vera darkened our doorstep. Apparently she spared me the worst part of it.

I listened in utter disbelief to what came out of her on that stand. John's mother had spoken of his temper, but throughout all his time at Downton, it never appeared, at least in my presence. Hearing the coarseness of the words that she recounted in her testimony, spoke only to the darkest side of his anger. I couldn't believe that she would say those things, though I realized that they must only be true as Mrs. Hughes was never one to entertain lies.

What I still don't understand is how the prosecution knew of it.

It is of no matter now. I must keep busy until I can make further plans. It is frightening, and hurtful, to think of leaving the life, the family, I have come to know here.

Everything is all so foreign now.

Over the years, Lady Mary has become ever so much more to me than simply M'Lady. Maybe I am foolish to think so, aiming beyond my rightful place, yet it is obvious that our relationship has changed. There has always been an ease in our exchange, though admittedly it is usually me who is the store of Lady Mary's concerns and emotions. Too much of a childish rivalry exists between her and Lady Edith, and I can tell she has always felt Lady Sybil too young to confide in. So funny it is that she is off and married now.

Lady Mary has been with me, both silently and now keenly, through every minute that I've known John. I hate the thought of losing the last person who knows me so well.

She tells me of her plans of America. I know that she is running, away from Sir Richard, away from scandal… away from Mr. Matthew. I wish she would just grasp her happiness, take what has been stolen away from me. It will come to her in time; I just hope it won't be too late. In the meantime, I cannot help but wish I had the same opportunity.

Run.

If John is lost, I will run from Downton, but perhaps…

It is hard for me to speak out, after all that she has done, but if I cannot ask now, who knows what will become of me. It is far easier to have regrets of not trying than failing to make an attempt.

"I have to leave Downton, but I don't have to leave you."

She tells me that she would have me, gladly, though unfalteringly encouraging me not to give up hope. Her smile is warm and heartening, a new light in her eyes that I haven't seen in quite a while. Changes certainly are coming for Lady Mary; I can't help but know that they are on the way for me too.


	9. Chapter 9

_Thank you all for hanging in there (and for the kind reviews)! This one may have been the toughest to write. Lots of tears. The existing scene is so poignant, yet so much is left unsaid. My heart breaks for the both of them, every time. _

Repairing the Ruins - Chapter 9

I come upon her door, open just a crack. Of course, it's always been open to me.

This will be the first time I have been alone with her since, well... since before that horrible day. I miss her more than I can say, but I've had a rough go at resolving those lingering feelings of betrayal. My head knows there was no other way, but my heart still aches from the exposure, even if it was truth. There's also the ease at which they talked of the disgrace I might bring to Downton. Though she refused to accept my resignation, perhaps it was just one last act of kindness. One to ease the falseness.

One more deep breath. I have to let Mrs. Hughes know about my plans, though I deeply fear that if I hear them leave my lips, it just might will the fates to make them come true.

I'll have a new life.

A life void of John.

Forever.

My stomach tightens as I lightly knock and ask to have a word. She ushers me in with a tentative smile, her eyes searching my face for something, though I cannot place what.

I begin to talk of America, of escaping with Lady Mary, but my thoughts never stray from what that will ultimately mean. John will be gone.

He will be gone.

Gone.

It all happens at once. My voice cracks. Fails. My face flushes. Hot tears start furiously flowing. There are no words.

There is nothing.

Nothing but Mrs. Hughes.

It is all gone. All feelings of blame and betrayal are replaced with searing loss. I feel as if I'm drowning, falling down the deepest, darkest pit of despair when I am suddenly grasped by the strongest branch of support I have ever known.

There is everything.

Forgiveness pushes through the grief. I release it all, into her open arms.

She won't let me fall. She never has.

* * *

><p>I hear the slightest knock fall upon my door. At first, I imagine it to be something I bumped over on my desk, until I see the briefest glimpse of blonde hair.<p>

Has she deliberately sought me out? Oh how I wish she would. I don't have the words, or nerve, to approach her after all that has happened. For as strong of a front I present in my position here, my heart is still as strong, and full, and breakable as it was when I was but a young thing.

What she must think of me.

She speaks of her plans of America, to run away with Lady Mary. For her to talk of such means she is coming to a sense of acceptance. I desperately search her face, attempting to find any revelations. She cannot have given up the fight entirely.

Truth be told, if she leaves, she will take much of my heart with her. My Anna. My closest hope for a child. A little version of myself God sought fit to place under my care.

Gone.

How I wish I could just tell her! She deserves to know how much she is loved; I can't help but feel as if speaking of such would only sound dishonest in the aftermath of all that has happened.

I know her better than I sometimes wish to. I can see her spirit shattering right before my eyes as she starts to unravel. My strong Anna, always putting on the brave face, is broken, falling. Her light is extinguishing, but I won't let her fade into the darkness with it.

I grab onto her arm, as much to pull her in as to steady myself. She needs this as much as I. How ever can I lose my girl?

I still cannot bring myself to speak of love lest my words be taken as false. I couldn't bear it if she questioned the depth of my feelings for her any more than she must already. I allow the only words that come.

"Just so as you know, you are highly valued by all of us. Both of you. Very highly valued."

I do love you, my dear girl.

Please forgive me.

She relents. It is all coming now. All of the hurt, all of the sorrow. The pain is washing away everything else.

I pull her in, towing her away from the darkness and into the comfort of my arms. I may not have the words, but I have the embrace. She grips me with such ferocity, as to keep herself from drowning.

It is then that I realize, she knows.

I hold her as tight as I can, allowing for no space between us. I pat her gently, stroking her back to encourage this long deserved release. She slackens a bit, her sobs wracking and tears soaking. We stay like this a good while, and I allow myself the slightest bit of undoing as well with a small offering of thanks to above.

Anna has come home.


	10. Epilogue

_I hadn't planned on continuing this particular story, but all of your reviews have been so heartening, I thought we at least deserved an epilogue! Thank you all for your kind encouragement._

Repairing the Ruins – Epilogue

If my years on God's green earth have taught me anything, it is certainly to expect the unexpected. Just when everything seemed lost beyond hope, the fates turned down to smile on us from above. Mr. Bates would be spared, not entirely mind you, but quite enough to allow us to breathe again. Anna won't be leaving us, ever determined to rightfully clear his name and reclaim her happiness.

I dare say that we're on our way.

For now, it's business as usual. The sun continues to rise. Daisy knocks her way down the bedroom doors. Mrs. Patmore fixes our breakfast. I travel the halls, making sure everything is ship shape and in Bristol fashion. Charles tinkers with the new technology that continues to come into our lives. Thomas and O'Brien… well… nothing has greatly changed there either.

What of Anna? She has kept herself quite busy, making it her personal cause to take the new girls under her wing. She continues to do what she does best, standing up for the weak, discovering and determining the truth in things, and always finding the good.

Her smile has returned, bit by bit, every day becoming a bit easier than the last.

She visits with Mr. Bates regularly. This we make sure of. It does both of them good, as well as eases the rest of us. His absence is so palpable in the house; we are all determined to do whatever it is we can to get him home where he belongs.

Lady Mary has had quite the impact, pressing fast against the class boundaries in a way I never imagined she would ever entertain. Anna has never lost sight of her place or her work, as I knew would be the case, but they continue to spend a great amount of time together. For once, and I can hardly believe it myself, I am glad for it. They are good for each other, especially now.

It is hard to be grateful for such tragedy, but through this trial of heartache, a new sense of love rose between us. For having such a full and giving heart, Anna is not foolish or loose with her feelings, another shared trait between us. Most goes unspoken but never fails to exist. We both know, and that itself is quite enough.

There is truth to the old saying, mind you.

It is always darkest before the dawn.

**THE END**


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